Literally.
But I eyed Alex real subtle. As incredible as he looked in his charcoal Defender suit, there was something about him in such normal clothes that made it harder not to stare. He might be such a pain sometimes, but he really was a gorgeous one, even fully dressed.
“Ready?” he asked, getting up from the table.
“Sure,” I said, taking in the reserved expression on his face.
Alex’s gaze went to my boobs, and like he’d read my mind, he asked, “Where’s your jacket?”
“Waiting for me at a store?”
He blinked.
I blinked.
Then he gestured toward the door with his head. “Use one of mine. Come on.”
See? Not a total heartless butthole after all. I nodded and followed after him, stopping in the foyer where he passed me a zip-up black jacket that he watched me put on. My shoes were right next to his, and we slipped them on. Then we were out the door.
But that was as far as I made it because Selene’s Camaro was missing, and in its place was a black SUV parked in the front that hadn’t been there before. I knew just enough about cars to recognize what the ported hood and yellow brake calipers meant. Whatever this was, it was fast.
“Is this yours?”
Those long legs were eating up the paved stones that led toward the car. “No. Come on.”
I’d walked into that shit. I ran down the steps, eyeing it. “What is it?”
“A Durango.”
It sure wasn’t a regular Durango. He confirmed it the second he started it, the engine roaring to life, nearly blowing my eardrums out, the body of the car even shaking lightly as it grumbled. He pulled out of the driveway the second I was done buckling my seat belt.
I was focused on everything outside. I’d kept an eye on my surroundings as much as I could the day I’d gone shopping, but it was way easier to do it now that I wasn’t driving. There weresomanytrees. So much green—
Someone’s energy changed, and I glanced over to find him there, his jaw tense. More tense than normal at least.
Oh boy. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
His attention stayed forward. “There are some people I don’t want to run into where we’re going.”
He actually answered me. I was going to take that as a step forward. “I can talk to whoever you want me to talk to by myself,” I said carefully, taking his openness to heart.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want them to see you either.”
Shame bit at my throat, and I glared at his profile until he glanced over. I blinked. “I’m no Mistress of Mayhem, but I’m all right looking.” I blinked again. “Remember? Remember you said I was ‘all right looking’?”
No feature on his face moved.
Oh, right. “The actress who plays her is really pretty. She’s a character on—”
“I know she’s a character. I have cable.”
Excuse me, motherfucker.“I’m so proud of you for knowing that,” I told him sarcastically.
He scoffed. “I watch TV.”
